


define dancing

by allegrolines



Category: Infinite (Band)
Genre: Dancing, Established Relationship, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Slice of Life, all the shoujo feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-10
Updated: 2016-04-10
Packaged: 2018-06-01 09:51:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6513364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allegrolines/pseuds/allegrolines
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He has his mp3 player turned up as loud as it goes, and his heart pounds alongside the beat, the bass line thumping in his temples and making him feel like the music is playing <i>through</i> him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	define dancing

**Author's Note:**

> (an attempt at putting together my feelings re Howon and Woohyun dancing)
> 
> for Kim <3

_One, two, three, four._

Shoulders loose, Howon keeps a sharp eye on his reflection, following the arc of his arms and the angle at which his knees bend. He has his mp3 player turned up as loud as it goes, and his heart pounds alongside the beat, the bass line thumping in his temples and making him feel like the music is playing _through_ him.

_Five, six, seven, eight._

He twists with the next verse of the song, starting from his left wrist and following the momentum all the way down to his right ankle in one long, smooth ripple. His feet stay firmly planted on the floor, and he's hyperaware of the pull of muscles around his ribcage, the shift of his hips and thighs and calves. It’s not perfect yet—who knows if it will ever be—but Howon repeats the same movement over a few more measures, until it feels natural enough to satisfy him for the moment. He presses pause, walks up to the bench to grab his towel, and almost chokes to death on his first mouthful of water when his eyes meet Woohyun’s in the mirror. 

“ _Fuck_ ,” Howon wheezes, struggling to stop coughing. He yanks his headphones off. “How long have you been there?”

“A while? I don’t know, I just didn’t wanna go home yet,” Woohyun replies, sitting down next to him and rubbing his back in slow circles. “Obviously you didn’t either.” Howon hears the smile in his voice. “Sorry I didn't say anything when I came in. You were so focused, and I didn’t want you to stop dancing.” Howon leans on him, turns his face into the crook of his neck. Woohyun’s hand rests between his shoulderblades, warm and comforting, and he doesn’t even complain about Howon’s sweated-through clothes and his overwarm, slick skin. “Was that for the new song?”

“No, it was—” Howon shrugs. “Something else.”

Woohyun hums against his hair. His fingers play with the short, damp strands on the back of Howon’s head. “It looked _really_ good.”

“I was also working on our choreo, earlier. I just—” _Needed a break_ , he doesn’t say. 

“I get it,” Woohyun whispers. And then he adds, with so much awe in his voice that Howon feels himself flush harder, “It was like I could hear the music, just by watching you move.”

Howon lifts his head, clings to the soft cotton of Woohyun’s sweater. He leans in and kisses him, pushing against Woohyun’s mouth, licking at the seam of his lips until Woohyun opens up for him. “Dance with me,” he says when he pulls back.

Woohyun’s hand tightens around the nape of his neck. He smiles at Howon like he’s just been given exactly what he wanted.

Howon is more than ready to keep going after his brief pause, but Woohyun needs to warm up first. He takes off his jacket and starts stretching while they talk quietly about the upcoming album, Howon’s little brother’s recent phone call, the jar of homemade kkakdugi Woohyun’s mom sent a couple of days ago. Howon gets the sound system ready, swiping over one of the playlists he normally uses for practicing.

“Are you good to go?” he asks Woohyun.

“Do your worst, Howonie.”

He doesn’t, not exactly—Howon starts with one of their own songs, the footwork fast paced but familiar. Their sneakers squeak against the hardwood, and Howon is pleased to see Woohyun isn’t sketching the choreography; his moves are as sharp and full of intent as if they were performing, his eyes half lidded and serious whenever Howon catches a glimpse of them. They dance throughout Man in Love and The Chaser without stopping in the middle, covering less space to compensate for being short on five people. By the end of the second song there’s sweat shining in the hollow of Woohyun’s throat and he’s frowning at Howon, his mouth pressed into an unhappy line.

“I asked for your _worst_ ,” he says, and to be fair he isn’t even full-on panting yet. “I’m not seventeen anymore, _Hoya-ssi_.”

That brings back the memory of Woohyun’s round, solemn face, his long hair tied up in a ponytail. Howon doesn’t think he will ever forget the way that face crumbled in misery when Woohyun had been unable to follow their choreographer’s instructions, too graceless and clumsy. Some people, Howon knows, dance like it’s second nature to them; others reach that point after years of practice. As a teenager, Woohyun was neither of those. He was the boy who went blank when he was asked to improvise, too self conscious of his own shortcomings to be able to let go, the one who would stay rooted on his spot and rock back and forth to the beat. If he had something in his favor, though, it was that he had an instinctive understanding of rhythm and music, something that many others spent years chasing after to no avail. 

On top of that, Woohyun kept rehearsing their dance routines on his own, over and over again, stubbornness written in the tight set of his jaw and the furrow etched between his eyebrows. A part of Howon couldn’t help but be impressed that he refused to give up despite how frustrating it had to be for him. That was what pushed him to approach Woohyun one day, pass him a water bottle and talk to him until his scowl was gone and he was laughing again.

 _I think it’s cool that you keep trying to get better_ , Howon told him, all too suddenly, and Woohyun’s smile melted into wide-eyed surprise. _And If you ever need help—_ he continued awkwardly. _Well. You know._

Woohyun’s current expression isn’t unlike his younger self’s—half stubborn, half displeased—and he’s staring at Howon in clear challenge. Howon puts his hands up in surrender, pride and fondness welling up in his throat. “So maybe I _am_ going too soft on you,” he admits. He must be looking at Woohyun like a lovestruck idiot, not that he cares. “Are you up for Special Girl, then?”

Woohyun’s mouth curves up. “You know I am.”

He is, not that Howon is surprised. Woohyun follows the choreography as well as any of the backup dancers did when Howon was promoting alone with Dongwoo for the first time. He mirrors Howon’s movements, the two of them so in sync it seems impossible that once upon a time Howon had had to put his hands on Woohyun’s hips to guide them through how a specific move was supposed to _feel_.

Howon catches himself looking at the precise sway of Woohyun’s lower body, the quickness of his feet. Lack of feeling is definitely _not_ a problem anymore.

The next song isn’t from any of their albums, slower and heavy on percussion. Howon’s body shifts to a more relaxed stance even before his brain registers the change, starting off with small motions to follow the new beat. Unlike him, Woohyun drops his form completely; he circles Howon with unhurried steps, eyes fixed on him and unbidden wonder in his gaze. Howon remembers that expression from when they were younger, too, since it had been all over Woohyun’s face the day they were introduced, after Howon danced in front of the other trainees for the first time. Howon spins over himself, matching Woohyun’s pace.

“Aren’t you gonna freestyle, too?” Howon asks him. “Isn’t this what you wanted?”

“Maybe I wanna look at you first,” Woohyun replies. “For _inspiration_ ,” he adds, as if it needs to be clarified.

 _How do you know what you’re supposed to do?_ Woohyun asked him once, a few months after their debut. He was breathless even though he had been sitting for a while, and his hands were clenched on his knees, his knuckles tight and white.

 _You don’t, Woohyunie. That’s kind of the point_ , Howon explained, moving with the first verse of the song Woohyun had chosen. It wasn't Howon’s usual style, and it was trickier to adjust to it than he had anticipated. _You dance just like the music feels for you._

 _But how can you make it look as good as you do?_ Woohyun insisted. Howon dropped to his knees and slid forward; he rolled to the side, one leg stretched high, drawing a wide arch over his own body. Woohyun gasped out loud.

 _I don’t—_ Howon faltered. It was increasingly difficult to put his thoughts into words. _You just need to pay attention to the song, and then you kind of—string your moves together, I guess._

 _I… see_ , Woohyun said. His eyes followed Howon around the room. _Like a choreography?_

 _Yes and no. A choreography is set beforehand, right? Here you have to make it up as you go._ The music was building up to the second chorus and Howon stopped talking, stopped thinking altogether.

 _Maybe you should ask Dongwoo hyung about this, too?_ Howon suggested after the song ended. He felt winded, and his red t-shirt looked maroon in places, plastered to his chest and back with sweat. He enjoyed the time he spent alone with Woohyun in the practice room very much, and he wanted to help him get better—he had said he would, after all. He wasn’t sure if he was any good at it, though. _He has more experience as a teacher than me._

Woohyun shook his head. _No, I—_ he lowered his face, looking unexpectedly shy. _I don’t mind if it takes a while. I want to learn from you._

Six years later, freestyling might not be Woohyun’s strongest point yet, but his movements are confident, going from sharp to smooth as the song changes. Howon recognizes bits from old choreos, steps that Woohyun must have retraced one thousand times at the very least, even some of his own moves and gestures—rougher around the edges, maybe, but still unmistakable. Howon dances in a spiral around him, shifting closer and closer as the bridge starts, his hands hovering over Woohyun’s waist. Woohyun takes it further, sliding his arms around Howon’s neck and rolling his hips to the beat of the song. It’s far from perfect or coordinated—their knees bump against each other’s, their feet get tangled together—but Woohyun throws his head back and laughs, loud and clear, pure joy on his face. Howon catches him around the ribs, leans in, puts his mouth on Woohyun’s throat, and _sucks_.

They end up kissing against the mirror, Howon’s hands under Woohyun’s sweater, one of Woohyun’s thighs wedged between his legs. It’s slow and deep, so good that Howon’s toes curl in his shoes. He thrusts forward and rocks into Woohyun, chasing the edge of his own pleasure, seeking more heat, more friction, his hard cock slotting into place right next to Woohyun’s through their pants and underwear. Howon gasps for air, endearments on the tip of his tongue, scraping his teeth on Woohyun’s chin and under his jaw. And then Woohyun’s hands move to his ass and squeeze it, using the leverage to pull him even closer, and Howon shudders, coming with a groan. As soon as the room stops spinning he presses the heel of his hand down on Woohyun’s erection, just a little bit too rough, and Woohyun’s voice shatters like light through a prism.

It’s Howon’s turn to chuckle, after he manages to somewhat collect himself. “That was—”

Woohyun sighs, nuzzling against his shoulder. “It was,” he agrees dreamily.

Howon wraps his arms around him, as tightly as he can. He feels Woohyun’s chest rise and fall every time he takes a breath. “Do you have a change of clothes?”

“Mhm.”

“Good,” Howon says. When Woohyun stays silent and pliant he adds, “Are you falling asleep on me, Woohyunie?”

“It’s called enjoying the afterglow, Howon-ah,” Woohyun answers, sighing again. He looks up at Howon, eyes still blown dark. “You should try it, too.”

“What if we got changed and went home instead? Together?”

Woohyun pinches his side, smiling placidly when Howon yelps. “You could’ve asked in ten minutes or so. It’s not like I’d’ve said no to you.”

They try their best to avoid being seen as they sneak into the restroom, holding their backpacks in front of themselves as casually as they can. Once they get there Howon picks the shower stall furthest from Woohyun’s without a word; it’s _precisely_ because he has seen Woohyun naked before that he knows going in together would do nothing but hold them up. This way, they are ready to go roughly twenty minutes later, hats pulled low over their damp hair and Woohyun’s face half buried beneath a scarf. Spring or not, the evenings are still cold; Howon is thankful for his long coat. 

“It smells like rain,” Woohyun says while they walk down the street. He tilts his head upwards to look at the sky.

Howon _hmm_ s at him. “Do you want to watch a movie later?” he asks.

“Sure. We should stop at the supermarket first, though.”

“Oh, remind me to get udon.” The street is dark and empty. Howon reaches between them, takes Woohyun’s hand in his. “And those spicy seaweed thingies—you know the ones. I’ve been craving them for weeks.”

“I want ice cream,” Woohyun announces. “And chocolate. You know what, why don’t you just grab whatever you feel like eating tonight? I’ll get the dessert.”

“Did you just waggle your eyebrows at me?”

“Definitely not,” Woohyun answers, waggling them again.

Howon bumps hard into his shoulder, making Woohyun laugh and stumble and cling tighter to him. His fingers are warm around Howon’s, and his eyes have scrunched up into half moons. Howon takes a turn to the right, pulls Woohyun towards a narrow, quiet alley. The tinny sound of a variety show floats over them as they pass by the back door of a restaurant.

“It was good, earlier—the dancing, I mean. I really enjoyed myself.” Howon clears his throat. “You’ve improved a lot.”

“So have you,” Woohyun replies quietly. He squeezes Howon’s hand. “That's the whole point, right? To keep getting better and better no matter what.”

“Yeah, but I don’t—I’m not trying to outrun you or the others.”

“Howonie,” Woohyun says, his voice very gentle. He tugs at Howon until he stops walking. “Of course you wouldn’t want to get complacent; that’s not who you are. You don’t need to—I _know_. We all do.”

Kissing Woohyun in public would be an extremely stupid thing to do, so Howon has to settle for running the pad of his thumb over the soft skin of Woohyun’s inner wrist. “Thank you,” he says. He can tell Woohyun’s smiling, even if he can’t see it. 

“You are—” Woohyun shakes his head. “I’ll never be as good a dancer as you are,” he says bluntly. “Never.” With his free hand, he tugs his scarf down and—yes, that’s the wide grin Howon fell in love with, crooked teeth in full display. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t keep trying to follow your steps, for as long as I can.” 

The moment breaks when a dog starts barking a few blocks aways, and Howon realizes that he had been leaning forward while Woohyun was speaking. His whole face feels too hot when he steps back, all too conscious of his own body in a way that reminds him of the adrenaline high after a particularly good performance. They continue their way to the supermarket in silence; Woohyun doesn’t stop grinning, not even after they get to the main road again and can’t keep holding hands.

A little girl and her grandmother are walking out of the store when they get there. Howon and Woohyun greet them, bowing and standing aside so they can go first, and Woohyun makes bunny fingers at the girl when she waves back at them shyly. On the radio, Park Hyoshin is singing about a spring day at the end of a long winter—Howon mouths the lyrics while he picks instant noodles and triangle kimbap. Woohyun joins him by the coffee aisle with a box of strawberry-flavored Pepero and the seaweed snacks Howon wanted; he has taken off his hat and his hair sticks up in tufts, shining under the fluorescent lights. 

“D’you have your udon?” Woohyun asks around a yawn. 

“I thought you wanted ice cream.” Howon nudges him towards the counter. “And yes, I have them.”

Woohyun shrugs. “I changed my mind.”

It has started drizzling by the time they leave, just like Woohyun had predicted, and the air tastes sweet and crisp on Howon’s tongue. Their grocery bag isn’t heavy, but they end up carrying it between the two of them anyway, and Howon likes that it gives them an excuse to walk shoulder by shoulder. Judging by the way Woohyun’s knuckles keep brushing against the back of his hand, Howon guesses he thinks the same.

“I have a few hours off tomorrow morning,” Woohyun says a moment later. “I’d like to see the choreography for the new song. If you have time, I mean.”

“Stay over tonight,” Howon replies. Woohyun looks at him, confused, but Howon knows exactly what he wants to say, so he blurts out the rest before the words can get mixed up in his head. “It’s the most practical thing to do, right? If we’re going to spend the morning together?”

Woohyun leans against his side, solid and warm and _there_. “Yeah,” he says softly. “You’re absolutely right.”

**Author's Note:**

> title taken from the WALL-E ost (it's also the title of the song that plays [in this scene](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NPW3mvAN0Rc), because i'm a massive sappy disaster).
> 
> the Park Hyoshin song mentioned is [Shine Your Light](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QMvLXExxqXg).
> 
> also, have these [Very](https://41.media.tumblr.com/2b02d8188ab155b2361cd04d3e35c35f/tumblr_o5etfyg9LH1u9358ao1_1280.png) [Important](https://41.media.tumblr.com/7103a050f4f9593cae0afef84f31c8c1/tumblr_o5etfyg9LH1u9358ao2_1280.png) [screencaps](https://40.media.tumblr.com/d8b7f1a938044792ccbe6924c6a42f97/tumblr_o5etfyg9LH1u9358ao3_1280.png) of tiny Nam Woohyun with a ponytail.
> 
> thank you so much for reading! <3


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